Walking into the bedroom, she quickly shed the miniskirt and sweater, folding them without ceremony. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. "Many thanks, Sir," replied Thornhill, with freezing politeness; "but Id not require assistance. Anna stood on the step and looked up and down the street for a hansom. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic.
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